Friends of Narnia
by GeoffreyF
Summary: Eustace has news for the Pevensies when he is invited to spend Christmas with them. Post-SC.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This is my first fan fiction, so please be nice! Reviews welcome._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Narnia, which is the creation of the great C.S. Lewis._

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It was raining at the Pevensie household, and all four children were sitting around the fire. It was the beginning of the Christmas holidays, and the rain was an unexpected and unwelcome addition to the winter weather that all the grown-ups had been gloomily predicting. Peter sat in a tall-backed armchair, his maths book fallen unheeded to the floor. Susan's knitting had been laid aside. Edmund sat opposite his two elder siblings, and Lucy was sitting on the floor, leaning against his chair.

Rain made for interesting events, the Pevensies agreed. After all, rain had been ultimately responsible for Lucy's discovery of the wardrobe. In this instance, however, the torrential downpour had provided a convenient opportunity for a long-awaited discussion.

"You went back?" asked Peter, his eyes widening.

"Aslan said we might be able to," Lucy reminded him. "Although we won't go back again, apparently. Aslan said that we were too old, and -"

"Oh, that sounds like what he said to us!" exclaimed Susan.

"Begin at the beginning," said Peter firmly. "You're trying to start at the end, and that never works. Firstly - when was this?"

"When we stayed with Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta," supplied Lucy at once.

"And you haven't told us? Really, that's too bad of you," said Susan.

"We wanted to tell you properly," said Edmund. "We didn't really have time to explain, what with school and everything, and Susan getting back from America."

"You might have written," said Susan grumpily.

"We wanted to tell you when we were all together - all four of us," said Lucy.

"We're getting off the point," said Peter. "I want to hear all about it. By Jove, this is exciting! Beats all that tiresome algebra!"

"We got in through a picture," began Lucy.

"At Uncle Harold's?" asked Susan.

"Stop interrupting and let me tell the story! Yes, at Uncle Harold's. Eustace had been his usual tiresome self and ..."

And so Lucy told, with Edmund's considerable input, of the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, of Caspian and Reepicheep, of the Lone Islands, of the Seven Lords, and most of all of Eustace. Peter and Susan were, it must be said, sceptical of the latter's transformation.

"I'll believe that when I see it," was Peter's response to Edmund and Lucy's assurances that their cousin was quite reformed.

"We'll see him soon enough," said Susan. "Mother and Father have invited him to stay for Christmas. Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta are going to France and can't afford to take him. Oh, I was cross when I heard."

"Aslan didn't say whether Eustace would go back," said Lucy thoughtfully. "Perhaps he's been back already!"

There was a silence, as each of them pondered this. Finally, Susan picked up her knitting.

"Well, I must say I'm glad that you two are staying in this world in future," she said in her most grown-up voice, the one Edmund and Lucy hated.

"Susan!" exclaimed Lucy reproachfully.

"Well, remember what Aslan said to us. We need to draw close to our own world. You do too."

"Susan's right, as usual," said Edmund. "But it is jolly sad, all the same."

"Of course," said Susan. "How I cried that night we came back!"

"You cried, Su?" asked Peter, surprised.

"Of course! Didn't you?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: I wasn't going to post anything else until I got reviews (to see whether it was worth continuing), but seeing as both this chapter and the last were extremely short I thought, why not? Hopefully it's not too sweet, and I know there's not much tension. It _is_ going somewhere, although I'm sure it's fairly predictable. These are becoming almost like a series of oneshots ..._

_Anyway, please read and review. I don't think I'm very good at writing Eustace, so any suggestions would be most welcome._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Narnia; C.S. Lewis does._

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It has been said that Eustace Clarence Scrubb deserved his name. Certainly, all four Pevensies had expressed this opinion in the past. But now, as he stepped off the train onto the platform and looked around, they all thought that he looked quite different. Kinder and much wiser, certainly, but there was something else there too.

Mr and Mrs Pevensie were also favourably impressed. "I knew that he'd benefit from having you two to stay," said Mrs Pevensie fondly, ruffling Edmund's hair.

"Look at him!" exclaimed Peter. "How different he seems!" He waved to Eustace, who began to make his way over to them.

"Of course he's different," said Edmund, so that only his siblings could hear. "He's seen Aslan."

Eustace talked nonstop to his cousins all the way from the station to the Pevensies' house, which was a short walk. Although he was careful to avoid the subject of Narnia, he was abundantly forthcoming about many other subjects - his school, his parents, how tiresome it was not to be able to go to France, but also how glad he was to be able to stay with the Pevensies instead.

"We've set you up in Peter and Edmund's room," said Mrs Pevensie, as they turned in at the gate. "Edmund can sleep on the camp bed."

"Oh, no!" said Eustace. "I'm quite happy to sleep on the camp bed myself."

"But you're a guest," protested Susan, horrified at the very thought. "It would be impolite ..."

"No, no. I insist," said Eustace. "I don't need to be treated like the honoured guest - I'm only your tiresome cousin."

"If you're sure, Eustace," said Mrs Pevensie doubtfully. She remembered the last time Eustace had come to stay, when he had been delighted to displace Edmund and had, in fact, been rather unpleasant about it. She hoped that this wasn't a ruse of some sort.

"I say, thanks," said Edmund gratefully, leading Eustace up the stairs as the others followed Mr and Mrs Pevensie into the living room. He had always hated letting anyone else sleep in his bed. Peter said that he remembered him throwing a towering tantrum the first time Eustace had come to stay. Edmund always protested that he had only been seven years old.

"That's all right," said Eustace. "I don't really like sleeping in other people's beds anyway. I only used to sleep in yours to upset you."

"You _were _a little pest," said Edmund.

"I was," replied Eustace, smiling. "But haven't I changed?"

"Not nearly enough," laughed Edmund, "if you still need to ask."

Eustace laughed too. Impulsively he hugged Edmund, who had grown so tall that he had to lean down. Edmund couldn't remember Eustace ever demonstrating physical affection before.

"Oh, Edmund," he said. "I've missed you."


	3. Chapter 3

_Author' Note: This didn't turn out at all as I expected. The spiritual discussion in the middle has quite possibly led me way out of my depth - please feel free to correct any theological tangles I may have gotten myself into. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but at least it's longer and a bit less sweet. I'm quite unhappy with the end of this chapter, though, so I may change it if I think of something better. Still not entirely happy with Eustace either._

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of this; C.S. Lewis does._

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Eustace wasted little time in updating the Pevensies on his own adventures. It seemed that he had indeed been back to Narnia, just as Lucy had suggested, but that someone else had gone with him.

"Her name is Pole," he told them.

"What a funny name!" said Susan with a laugh.

"Oh, that's not her first name," amended Eustace. "Her first name is Jill. She goes to my school, and she hates it too. It all started because she was hiding from Them."

"Them?" queried Peter.

"Oh. I keep forgetting that you don't all go to my school too," said Eustace. "They are what I suppose you'd call bullies."

It was hard work for the Pevensies, getting a straight story out of Eustace. It has been noted before that Eustace was not the best of storytellers, owing to him having read all the wrong sorts of books when he was younger. He would keep forgetting important details, or jumping forwards to future events, or getting sidetracked and beginning to discuss something quite different. Eventually they managed to sort the whole story out, although it must be said that some tempers frayed along the way.

"The Lady of the Green Kirtle sounds a lot like the White Witch," said Peter thoughtfully. "You don't think -"

"No," said Edmund at once. "The Witch didn't have power like that. Why, she could have bewitched me, and made me do all sorts of horrible things." He shuddered.

"But she did bewitch you, in a way, Ed," said Susan. "I mean, you did ... well, go back to her."

"Trust me," said Edmund. "This doesn't sound like the Witch."

"I'm sure Aslan would have mentioned it if it was," said Eustace.

"Not necessarily," said Lucy, "if it wasn't part of your story. But I trust Edmund on this." Edmund squeezed her hand.

The rest of the afternoon was spent happily reminiscing about Marsh-wiggles and giants, and Trumpkin and talking owls, but they were careful to avoid the subject of the Lady.

"Poor Caspian," said Susan. "It feels so awful, knowing that he's dead."

"But he's in Aslan's Country," said Lucy. "And Aslan promised us we'd go there again one day. We'll see him again."

"Will we, though?" wondered Susan. "Perhaps Aslan's Country is different in our world?"

"No, no," said Lucy. "I'm sure Aslan's Country is the same for all worlds. He is in this world too, remember."

"I haven't seen him," said Susan sourly.

"Susan!" Peter frowned at her. "You shouldn't talk about Aslan like that!"

"I'll talk about him how I please," said Susan defiantly. "He promised we'd see him in this world and we haven't."

"It hasn't been that long, Su," said Lucy placatingly. "Perhaps we haven't been looking hard enough."

"Haven't we? I have."

"He has a different name in our world, Susan. He probably appears differently as well. Perhaps he doesn't actually visit this world at all."

"He said that he did!" Susan argued, forgetting to keep her voice down. "He said that we'd been to Narnia in the first place so that we could know him in our world!"

"Is everything all right?" called Mrs Pevensie from the kitchen. "You're not arguing already?"

"No, Mother!" Peter called back, glaring at Susan. "Just discussing!"

Susan took a deep breath and seemed to be about to continue, but then she sighed. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "It's hard, though. I miss him so much."

"Trust him," said Lucy, taking her sister's hand. "I'm sure he won't abandon us."

Edmund thought it was probably the right time to change the subject. "When can we meet Jill?" he asked Eustace, who had been prudently (and heroically) keeping quiet for the past several minutes.

"Oh, any time," said Eustace. "In fact, she doesn't live too far from here. We could call on her!"

"Oh, let's!" exclaimed Lucy. "I'm dying to meet her."

"We should go tomorrow," said Eustace, his eyes shining. "I'm sure she's dreadfully lonely. I've told her all about you, of course."

"But we haven't been introduced," protested Susan. The others ignored her.

"I'm sure Mother will let us," said Peter. "She keeps saying we need more fresh air and that we should meet new people. How far away does she live, Eustace?"

Eustace had Jill's address because they had agreed to write over the holidays. She had suggested it, because "I can't talk about Narnia to anyone else, and keeping things bottled up does no one any good". Eustace had agreed reluctantly - he hated writing letters.

Mrs Pevensie agreed readily to Eustace's proposition, but insisted on telephoning Mr and Mrs Pole first. "It wouldn't do to just turn up unannounced," she said. "They might have other engagements."

"I told you so," said Susan triumphantly.

"Shut up," said Peter angrily. He still hadn't forgiven her for questioning Aslan's integrity.

"That will do!" Mrs Pevensie glared at her two elder children. "You two are supposed to be growing up and setting an example to your brother and sister, not to mention Eustace! And all I have seen lately is you two sniping at one another. If you can't behave in a civilised manner, perhaps I shouldn't allow you to call on this Jill tomorrow after all."

"Oh, but -" began Eustace, but Edmund stood on his foot.

"Let them handle it," he hissed to his cousin.

"I'm sorry, Mother," said Susan.

"It's not me you should be apologising to," said Mrs Pevensie shortly, turning away to return to the kitchen.

There was an awkward silence. Then -

"I'm sorry, Susan. I shouldn't hold it against you. It's not as though I haven't wondered about those things." Peter held out his hand.

"Oh, Peter." Susan bypassed the hand to envelop her brother in a tight hug. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have gloated at you."

Eustace nudged Edmund. "How did you know they would do that?" he asked, for, having no siblings of his own, he knew little of life in a large family.

"They always do," Edmund replied.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Thanks to the people who have reviewed for your kind comments; you have spurred me on to write this chapter. There's no JillxEustace, even though I'm quite fond of that relationship, because they're only nine years old. It's still bookverse, even if there is a movie reference (it seems like a fairly plausible possibility to me, though). Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up before Christmas, seeing as it's very suitable for the festive season.  
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_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Narnia._

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Jill's house was a modest affair, little more than a cottage sandwiched between two much larger and more impressive constructions. There was a quaintness to it, however, that endeared it to all five children. Snow made a faultless carpet across the front garden, but the path had been swept very neatly. Snowflakes rested on the ivy that covered much of the house. A Christmas tree twinkled through one of the windows, and a wreath adorned the door.

"It's rather lovely," commented Lucy. "Like a little part of the country, right here in London."

"Frightfully small, though," said Eustace.

"Eustace," Susan chided gently. "We shouldn't judge ..."

"Shh," interrupted Peter, and he knocked three times on the door.

It was opened by a middle-aged woman with a lined but pleasant face, and more than a few grey hairs. She smiled up at them.

"Hello, dears. What can I do for you?"

"My name is Peter Pevensie," said Peter, "and this is my brother Edmund; my sisters, Susan and Lucy; and Eustace, our cousin. We're here to see Jill."

"Oh, of course," said the woman. "Your mother telephoned yesterday. My Jill is quite excited; she never gets visitors, you know."

At this moment, Jill herself came hurrying into the hall. "Oh, Scrubb! You came!" she exclaimed, coming forward. "I didn't think you would!"

"Of course I came," said Eustace awkwardly. "These are my cousins." He introduced each of them in turn.

"Invite them in, Jill, don't leave them standing in the cold," said the woman, but without anger. "I'll be around if you need me, dear." She kissed Jill on the forehead and disappeared into one of the rooms coming off the hallway.

"I think we'd best go to the sitting room," said Jill uncertainly, when she had closed the door. "In summer I would take you to the garden, of course, but it's rather cold there at the moment, and my room is too small. I'm sure Mother won't mind." She led the way through a door on the left into the room with the Christmas tree, where a fire crackled in the grate. Lucy noticed that there were very few presents under the tree, but said nothing.

Peter and Susan settled themselves into two of the armchairs, and Jill insisted that Edmund take the third. "I'm quite all right on the floor. I hope you two don't mind," she added to Lucy and Eustace. "We don't have visitors very often."

"No, not at all," smiled Lucy, kneeling down in front of Edmund's chair. Eustace and Jill sat down in front of the fire.

"How are you, then, Pole?" asked Eustace. "Have you any plans for Christmas?"

"No, not really," said Jill. "It's been very quiet, really - it usually is, though. It will be just the three of us."

"Don't - don't you have relatives, or something?" asked Susan hesitantly.

"Oh, yes, but they all live too far away. We come from Devon, originally, but we had to move to London because of Father's job. We exchange cards, though," she added, as though this quite compensated for the lack of company, although Lucy thought this unlikely. She caught Peter's eye and he nodded.

"Well, then, you must come and spend Christmas with us," he said. "Our people would be very happy to have you, and your parents, of course." (This wasn't presumptuous of Peter; Mrs Pevensie herself had suggested that they might like to invite the Poles. Christmas at the Pevensies' was a social affair.)

"Oh!" Jill blushed deeply. "Are you sure? I mean ... that's frightfully decent of you. I shall have to wait until my father arrives home tonight, though."

"Of course," said Lucy. "We should be so glad to have you!"

Jill was not used to this kind of treatment from people she had only just met. The Poles had kept very much to themselves since they had moved to London (they had left the country most reluctantly), and her interactions with people outside her family had largely been limited to Experiment House.

"Has Scrubb told - do you know ...?" she began uncertainly.

"Yes," said Eustace. "I thought it best, you know. But I didn't tell them your parts."

"Yes, and we're dying to hear," said Lucy.

Jill relaxed. Narnia. She could talk about Narnia. She imagined herself there again, with Eustace and all their friends, and realised that this need be no different.

"Where do you want me to start?" she asked.

"From the beginning," said Peter. "Parts of it are still a little muddled for us. Eustace here has a - well, an unusual style as a storyteller."

Eustace scowled, but otherwise ignored this. Jill began, a little uncertainly at first, but she was a much more accomplished storyteller than Eustace (having read more of the right sort of books), and the Pevensies were utterly engrossed. Peter questioned her closely about the Northern Giants and wondered when Harfang had been built; Susan was eager to hear more about Trumpkin and Caspian, and requested a detailed description of Rilian; Edmund was greatly interested in Aslan's signs, and wrote them down in a little notebook that he took out of his pocket; but Lucy just sat there, drinking it all up, her eyes dancing.

Eventually the conversation slowed and finally stopped. All six of them sat there happily for some time, thinking about what they had heard (for Jill had insisted that the others tell of all of their own adventures, as the tales she had heard from Eustace had been rather fragmentary). Finally, Jill spoke.

"I suppose we ought to do something. There are some games in that cupboard over there."

"Oh! Yes," said everyone, coming out of their daydreams. They followed Jill over to the little cupboard, and peered over her shoulder.

If you have ever had to decide what kind of game to play when you have visitors, then you will not be surprised that no one seemed to have any particular preference, and that they all deferred to each other. Jill said that the others were guests, and that they should choose; Eustace protested that she was the hostess, and she knew which were the best games, anyway. Eventually, Susan settled the question.

"Perhaps we could use the dictionary?" she suggested.

Everyone else quickly decided on Snakes and Ladders.


	5. Chapter 5

_This chapter was very difficult to write, partly because I have never even seen real snow, let alone had a white Christmas. Hopefully it is not too inaccurate.  
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_This is the last chapter in this particular story.  
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_Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Narnia, especially the short quotes from _The Magician's Nephew_ at the end of the second section. _

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Lucy was awake, but she kept her eyes tightly shut. She never liked to wake up too quickly on Christmas morning - she always wanted to make every moment last. Very slowly, she opened her eyes.

She had to stop herself crying out with delight. It was perfect! She tiptoed to the window and peered out. The ground was covered with a fresh fall of snow, and tiny snowflakes were gently falling. Last year there had been hardly any snow for Christmas, and Lucy had been very disappointed. This year, clearly, would make up for it.

She felt Susan come up close behind her, but did not turn around. The two of them just stood at the window, watching. Lucy felt a cold hand encircle her own.

"It's beautiful," Susan whispered. "It's just - oh, we haven't had a Christmas like this in ages."

"It reminds me of our second Christmas in Narnia," said Lucy. "Do you remember that morning, Susan? The snow was just like this - just right."

"I remember," said Susan softly, and something in the way she said it made Lucy look around. Susan smiled at her, but there was a tear running down her cheek.

"Susan! You're crying!"

Susan smiled again. "Yes, Lucy. Come on. You know the boys like you to wake them on Christmas morning."

"But -" Lucy was horrified. Susan hardly ever cried - and now, at Christmas!

"Come on, Lucy," said Susan again. "Let's wake the others." She leant down to whisper in Lucy's ear. "Not a word."

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The Pevensies and Eustace spent Christmas morning helping their parents prepare for the guests. The house was already decorated in red, gold and green, but there was still much to do. Eustace had not spent Christmas with his cousins before, and sadly concluded that it was rather superior to Christmas at home. His parents disliked Christmas, and festivities in the Scrubb household were usually limited to a small display of cards on the mantelpiece (from people his parents didn't want to offend).

The Poles arrived at ten thirty; Mr and Mrs Pevensie had invited them to come earlier, partly because they lived closest and partly because they didn't know each other, and wanted to become acquainted before the other guests had arrived. Jill joined the other children in the living room, where they were busily filling Christmas crackers, while Mr and Mrs Pole insisted on helping Mr and Mrs Pevensie with their preparations. Mrs Pole had brought a tray of Christmas biscuits, the smell of which made all of the children hungry as it wafted in from the kitchen.

By midday, all the other guests had arrived. All four of the Pevensies' grandparents were seated around the fire, updating each other on events of the past year. Mr and Mrs Pevensie were finalising preparations for Christmas dinner with the Poles, while the children were talking with Professor Kirke and Miss Plummer, who had been persuaded to attend by Mr and Mrs Pevensie, who were horrified to learn that each was planning to spend Christmas alone. Miss Plummer was an old friend of the Professor's, and had met Peter when he had been studying with the old man the previous summer. She quickly insisted that all of the children call her "Aunt Polly".

At half past twelve, Mrs Pevensie announced that dinner was ready and everyone seated themselves round the table (which was really two tables joined together, for the dinner table was too small for such a large party). Everyone agreed that it was a delicious meal, and most people had second helpings. Only Susan politely refused.

After pudding, the party dispersed again to digest the dinner. One of the grandfathers fell asleep in an old armchair by the fire. Mrs Pevensie began clearing up, and the children tried to help, but when six children are trying to help at once it can all get a little overwhelming. Finally, the Professor offered to take the children for a walk. Mrs Pevensie agreed gratefully.

"It would do them good," she said. "I'm sure they need to walk off some energy."

All of the children fetched their coats and followed the Professor and Aunt Polly out of the door into the snow-covered yard. The Professor seemed to know where he was going, turning left at the gate.

"Professor," said Peter, as they walked, "when I was staying with you last summer, you started to tell me something. But you stopped - you said you wanted us all to hear it. Couldn't you tell us now?"

The Professor turned to him in surprise. He glanced at Jill and Eustace. "By all of you, I meant your brother and sisters, Peter. It concerned your - adventure - when you stayed with me before."

"Oh, Eustace and Jill have had similar adventures, sir," said Lucy.

"Indeed?" The Professor turned to Eustace and Jill, who nodded. "I see."

They walked on in silence; the Professor seemed to be thinking. Eventually, he turned to Aunt Polly and inclined his head, as though he was asking her something. She nodded.

"Very well," he said. "Perhaps now is the best time, after all. I am going to tell you a story about something that happened long ago when your grandfather was a child."

"A story?" asked Peter, puzzled.

"It is a very important story," said the Professor, smiling slightly, "because it shows how all the comings and goings between our own world and the land of Narnia first began."

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There was a long silence when the Professor finished his tale. Finally, Eustace spoke.

"Do you mean to say that you two saw the very beginning of Narnia?"

The Professor laughed. "Weren't you listening, Eustace? I thought I made it fairly clear."

"But then you knew!" said Susan, her eyes wide. "You knew we were telling the truth all along!"

"Of course I knew," said the Professor, "but I would not have doubted you, even if I had not known. Logic supported your story too."

Susan smiled.

"And now," said Aunt Polly, looking around at them all, "Digory and I are very eager to hear your own stories. But I think that will have to wait - your parents will be worried if we don't return soon."

"I think," said the Professor slowly, "that we eight perhaps should discuss this again. I have been yearning for Narnia more than ever lately, and I am sure you all miss it as much as I do."

The children made various sounds of agreement.

"I will discuss it with your parents when we return," said the Professor. "I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. And now we really must get back. Come along."

They all followed the Professor and Aunt Polly reluctantly - each wanted to talk more of Narnia. The Professor and Aunt Polly talked to each other, discussing whether the Professor's small house (he had lost the large one with the wardrobe) or Aunt Polly's little cottage, or somewhere else entirely, would work best for the planned meeting.

"How wonderful!" said Lucy. "To think that the Professor had been to Narnia all along!"

"Yes," Susan replied thoughtfully. "It is rather astonishing."

"I wonder if there is anyone else who has been to Narnia," said Peter. "We seem to have discovered an awful lot in the last few days."

"I don't think so," said Edmund. "We heard tales of the Lord Digory and the Lady Polly when we were kings and queens, remember? But we never connected them with the Professor, and not even with Aunt Polly. I have been thinking about all the old tales they used to tell us, and I don't think any had children from another world in it. Were there any such tales when you were there last?" he asked Eustace and Jill, who shook their heads.

"It's just the eight of us, then," said Susan. "The eight Friends of Narnia."

**THE END.**

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_I hope everyone enjoyed reading my story, and a special thankyou to everyone who reviewed. More reviews would be very welcome!_

_I have several ideas for other stories within this particular universe, but this is the end of this particular one.  
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_Merry Christmas!  
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